Someone Just Walked Into My House

It’s 11:00PM O’clock. I’m ballasting a couple of beers. And about to go to sleep. And the kitchen door rumbles, rattles, and groans. And opens. She enters.

“Huh? Hello. Unseen intruder/visitor,” I say from my bed with a spring up and a grab of my gun. Um,  robe. “Hello?”

“Hello!” The cheery voice of Kristin answers from where she by now must have reached the living room.

“Eep!” She’s now in my filthy house. And I am going to confront her in my filthy robe! “I, er, wasn’t expecting you”

“I emailed and texted you that I was coming today.”

“Eep!”

“I told you I was coming out.”

“Yes. I remember that part. But I didn’t know when, exactly.”

“I should have realized when you didn’t answer. Sorry”

Generally, I don’t know if people are trying to get in touch with me or not.  Since they usually aren’t. “How long are you in for?-here for?”

“Till Thursday.”

What’s today? I think it’s approximately Thursday. “Oh, OK. A week. Let’s see how bad your room looks.” Not bad, actually. I don’t have any cats anymore, so it is bereft of the expected patina of cat hair. Someone had made the bed so, unremarkably, it is still made. At least that little blond-haired girl hasn’t been sleeping in it lately.

“There you go. Talk to you when I’m human.”

And that was that. I heard her knocking about in the kitchen the next morning but didn’t get up. I found her text informing me of her ETA from the day before. My phone had been in the charger and I didn’t notice I had a text. No email, though. She just walked into my boring life.

At least I wasn’t having an orgy or anything.